


The Second First Time

by monday7112



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: fandom_fridays, M/M, Tattoos, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monday7112/pseuds/monday7112
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hasn’t touched Sam since before he went to Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_fridays/profile)[**fandom_fridays**](http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_fridays/), prompt "A tattoo"

It’s been a long day and all Sam can think about is getting a hot shower and a solid eight hours of shut-eye. As soon as the door swings open he’s through it like a shot, calling the shower. Dean flips on the lights and throws the keys on the nightstand, too tired for once to argue. “Yeah, all right. I suppose you’ve earned it this time,” Dean agrees.

Dean walks over to the bed and kicks off his boots, then begins pulling off his shirt. Sam does his best to avoid watching his brother as he begins to undress. Dean hasn’t touched him since before he went to Hell and while he has accepted the fact that _that_ particular part of their relationship was permanently over as a result of the choices that he had made with Ruby, he still finds it all but impossible to control his body’s reaction to the sight of Dean’s bare shoulders and chest. Sam ignores the longing that courses through him at the thought of Dean’s body pressed against his and turns, removing his own shirt and tossing it unceremoniously into a pile on the floor. He’s reaching down to remove his shoes when he notices that Dean has crossed the space between them and is staring at his shoulder.

He’s so close Sam can feel his breath on his neck and that is _not_ what Sam fucking needs right now when he’s just trying to get into the shower without revealing to Dean exactly how much he misses him. He hasn’t gotten laid in three months, though and his body is determined to betray him. He straightens up and stares at Dean. “Dude, what the hell? Personal space?”

Dean doesn’t move, though. Instead, he reaches out and brushes Sam’s shoulder. His touch sends shockwaves running through Sam’s body and it’s everything he can do not to groan at the sensation. “What’s this?” Dean asks, his voice so quiet that Sam can barely hear him over the sound of all the blood leaving his brain and rushing southward.

Suddenly Sam realizes just what’s caught Dean’s attention and he jerks away, his hand automatically reaching up and rubbing the spot where Dean’s fingers had just been touching. “Nothing,” he says tersely, hoping Dean doesn’t press the issue.

Dean’s not going to let it go, though. “Move your hand,” he says but Sam refuses. “When did you get that one?” he demands again, undeterred. “It for Ruby?”

Sam jerks away from Dean, angry now, wondering how long it’s going to be before his brother quits reminding him of the stupid decisions he’s made over the past year. “No,” he answers, offering no further explanation. Dean can go fuck himself if he’s going to keep bringing up Ruby like that.

Dean takes another step closer, and he’s inches away from Sam now. His hand brushes over Sam's fingers and tugs. This time Sam relents and drops his hand. Dean's not saying anything, though, just staring and then he rubs his fingers over the spot Sam had been covering seconds ago. Sam inhales sharply.

“Sammy,” Dean says softly and there’s a huskiness to his voice that Sam has not heard in a very, very long time.

Sam tries his best to ignore the tightness of his jeans as his cock strains against them. Dean is such a fucking tease. He knows this isn’t going anywhere so why’s he standing so close, a look which Sam would swear is desire in his eyes? “When did you get it?” Dean asks again and Sam’s certain this time. Dean’s voice is filled with longing. He ducks his head, unable to meet Dean’s eyes.

 _“You sure about this, son?” the tattoo artist asks, picking up the piece of paper Sam had thrown at him. “That’s a damn powerful amulet you’re asking me to ink on you.”_

 _Sam stares at the man, wondering if he's slurring his words that badly. He knows he’s drunk but he’s pretty sure he’s still speaking coherently. “My brother’s,” he says, swallowing back the tears that are threatening and showing the man the one he’s wearing around his neck. “Want it with me permanently, in case I lose this one.”_

 _The man nods, motioning for Sam to sit down. “If you’re sure,” he repeats, picking up the picture again and giving it another long look before beginning. Sam pulls a flask out of his jacket and downs another drink as the pain from the needle injecting ink into his skin begins to radiate across his shoulder and down his arm. The physical pain offers respite from the crippling emotional pain he’s been living with for the last however long it’s been since he lost Dean and he relishes the sensation. It's the only proof he has that he's still alive and hasn't been dragged to Hell himself. He takes another drink from the flask and this time doesn’t stop the tears when they threaten to spill over._

Sam closes his eyes against the swell of emotion which washes over him at the thought of those four long months spent thinking his brother was gone from him forever. “Got it…while you were in Hell,” he manages to choke out. “Wanted something to, you know…” he trails off. This time he’s without the words to explain why he had felt compelled to get the tattoo.

Fortunately, Dean’s not much for words anyway, and he doesn’t press Sam any further. Instead, his eyes meet Sam’s and Sam isn’t quite sure what’s happening but the next thing he knows, Dean lowers his head and brushes his lips across the tattoo. Sam gasps at the sensation of his brother's lips against his bare skin, unable to form a coherent thought. Before he manages to regain control of himself, Dean's hands tangle in his hair and he’s pressing his lips on Sam’s.

Sam’s only surprised for a second though before instinct takes over and he pulls Dean’s body up against his, relishing the feel of Dean’s bare skin against his own, his hard muscles hitting Sam in all the right ways. He cups Dean’s ass and draws him even closer, spinning him around and pressing him up against the wall.

Dean moans against Sam’s lips, delving his tongue deeper as his hands start roving across Sam’s shoulders, his fingers digging into Sam’s back. Sam growls, pulling his lips away from Dean’s and baring his neck. Dean knows exactly what Sam’s asking and his mouth latches onto Sam’s shoulder, biting and sucking and licking as he reaches down and starts fumbling with Sam’s pants. He gets the button undone and then reaches his hand inside, groaning again as he feels how hard Sam is for him. He circles Sam’s cock with his hand and begins moving it up and down.

“Fuck…me…Dean …” Sam pants and Dean’s hand stills for a moment as Dean lifts his lips from the area of Sam’s shoulder that he’s exploring.

“I intend to,” he says and tightens his fingers around Sam’s cock again. Sam gasps and begins thrusting harder against his brother, his motions becoming more frenzied. “Shhhh,” Dean whispers, slowing his movement. “Not yet.”

Sam reaches down, pulls Dean’s hand off his cock and pushes Dean away just enough to discard his jeans, boxers and socks. Dean follows suit and then pushes Sam against the wall this time, rubbing his cock against him.

“Quit fucking teasing me, Dean,” Sam growls.

“You’d better hope I have some lube, then,” Dean responds, again grinding his cock against Sam’s.

“In my duffel,” Sam gasps. He’s almost thrown it away at least a dozen times but hasn’t quite been able to bring himself to accept that his relationship with Dean really was over. “Fuck, Dean…”

Dean smiles, playfully this time, kisses Sam on the forehead. Sam lets out an involuntary sigh of disappointment when his brother releases him and walks over to the duffel but in the next second he’s back, lube in hand. “Almost threw it away,” Sam confesses.

“Thank God you didn’t,” Dean says, and Sam’s aware for a moment of the irony of invoking God’s name in this particular situation. He almost laughs but then Dean’s spinning him around and pinning him against the wall with one hand. He feels his brothers knee nudging his apart and then Dean’s hand, hot and wet with lube is pressing against his opening. He tenses automatically at first then reminds himself to relax as Dean’s finger rubs around the rim, then thrusts inward. He turns it slowly, working it in deeper as Sam leans against him, waiting for the discomfort to pass.

“You okay,” Dean’s whispering in his ear now and there’s concern etched into the desire in his voice.

“Yeah,” Sam says, “Yeah…keep…” Dean thrusts deeper and Sam shudders as Dean finds his prostate. “Dean…” he groans. “Fuck…Dean!”

“Ready?” Dean asks and Sam nods. Dean slowly works a second finger inside, scissoring and twisting, opening Sam up and getting him ready for his cock. Once again, the discomfort passes quickly and Sam begins to move with Dean, writhing against him, trying to maintain some semblance of control as pleasure is coursing through every inch of his body.

Dean’s lips are on his shoulders again, kissing and sucking. Sam gasps as Dean reaches the tattoo and bites down while his fingers continue to work Sam into a frenzy. “You ready for me?” he whispers when Sam’s wondering how long he can fucking hold out with Dean doing what he’s doing.

Sam can only nod his agreement but Dean wants more than that, the bastard. “Tell me,” he says.

“Please,” Sam pleads. “Dean…please…”

But Dean’s not moving yet. “Say it,” he demands, twisting his fingers around.

“I…want…” Sam gasps then moans as Dean hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“What, Sammy?” Dean whispers, breath hot against Sam's neck. “I want to hear you say it.”

If he weren’t feeling so damn good right now, Sam would hate that Dean was so calm and in control while he was about to lose his fucking mind.

But he is feeling that damn good and he’s in no mood to argue, so he does as Dean asks. “You…your cock, oh fuck! I want your cock inside of me, Dean. Please!” he begs, fingers digging into the wall. “Please…”

Dean smiles again then slides his fingers out of Sam. Sam lets out a small protest but then Dean’s cock is pressing against him and he holds his breath while Dean begins to slide inside of him. “You okay?” Dean asks again and if he wasn’t half out of his mind with need and desire he might be touched by the continuing concern and gentleness that Dean is showing since this is their first time in over a year. As it is, he pushes backward against Dean’s cock, urging him forward.

“Feels…good,” he bites out and Dean thrusts farther. Sam is feeling a little uncomfortable now but then Dean’s pushed completely inside him and all he can think of is the feeling of Dean’s hard cock, slick and hot, hips pumping against his.

“Sammy,” Dean moans and there’s a bit of awe in his voice that reminds Sam of the way he used to sound when they were together before, before hell and before Ruby and before the damn apocalypse. Sam feels tears spring into his eyes and he knows that Dean’s probably going to tease him about that later but he doesn’t care.

Dean begins to thrust harder and Sam bucks against him, matching his tempo. He can feel the tightness beginning to build as Dean continues to drive into him, bringing him closer and closer to the edge until he’s crying out and his climax is washing over him. He hears Dean cry out as well, shuddering, feels the warmth as Dean comes inside him.

Dean collapses against him and Sam’s so weak that all he can do is prop himself against the wall and count on it to hold him up. They’re both breathing heavy, slick from sweat, their bodies still melded together. Dean lifts his hand, traces his finger over Sam’s tattoo, kisses it softly. “I want one for you,” he whispers in Sam’s ear.

Sam smiles. Dean’s been back for over a year but for the first time since he’d watched his brother die, he feels like he has him back again.


End file.
